Nott another Crossroads Story
by Tippy.LaRoux
Summary: Crossroads!AU —Theo losses everything, including his faith. What he wants is to get out of his one-horse town and make a name for himself on stage, like his father should have but didn’t. All he needs is a little help from a deamon


QLFC

Falcons - Chaser 3

(quote) 'If the benchmark is extraordinary, what do you do if you're not?' — Vanya Hargreeves, The Umbrella Academy

(phrase) at a crossroads

(character) Theodore Nott

When he was little more than a baby, a wicked flu swept through the small town Theodore Nott lived in. A darkness hung over everything for months as families worried over loved ones and crops lay forgotten in the fields. Every Sunday at the church names were added to the prayer list, and every Wednesday they buried the ones that didn't make it. One such Wednesday, with the sun shining and the scent of bee balm dancing on a soft breeze, the Notts gathered to lay to rest one of their own.

Theo's mother did everything she could to keep her family safe, but hadn't done the same for herself.

The loss was felt immediately. Mr Nott wasn't able to care for the toddler and work in the fields. He and his wife were very old when they had little Theodore, whom his wife affectionately referred to as her 'little gift from God'. He did his best, asking a few matrons from the church to watch the boy while he tended the crops, but he couldn't rely on them indefinitely and they just weren't his wife. Theo's cries for his mother were getting to the older man and he didn't know what to do, so he pulled out his old guitar and started playing louder than the boy's cries. It worked most nights, and Theo would at last sleep listening to the soft melodies his father would play him.

Both Notts were more than grateful when a visitor arrived a few weeks later to help around the house.

Aunt Becca came to her brother's aid as soon as she put her affairs in order up north. Her husband had died years ago, and her own children were grown and spread about the country with families of their own. She had been missing the feeling of being needed, and the flowers in her garden weren't filling that void as much as they had in the past. Tending a flock was more fulfilling than tending a rose bush.

.o0o.

Aunt Becca ruled the Nott household with an iron fist and a soft heart. Theo grew up loving and fearing the woman in equal measure. He found solace in the church. He would go every Sunday and sit in the front. From the time he was a little kid he was revered by the other parents as the poster-child of children's behavior. When he was done with his studies, he would spend time reading his bible and memorizing the songs in the hymnal.

Every night before bed, Theo could be found on his knees with his hands folded and head down. Part of his prayers were said out loud. "Dear Lord, thank you for the blessings you've bestowed upon me. Please bless this home and everyone in it. Thank you for the food on the table, and crops in the field. Please keep Aunt Becca and Father safe. I promise to live each day in your name so I can one day be welcomed into your loving arms. In Jesus's name I pray. Amen." He would add parts here and there—if there were a sick animal or a dry spell—but for the most part, the prayer was the same.

.o0o.

He pulled the six string his father played from the wreckage of their house. The old guitar was one of the few things left of the house when a twister blew through one April night. His father didn't survive the thrashing, but Theo found his Aunt Becca and nurses her back to health.

With help from the church, Theo's house was rebuilt. It wasn't the same without the overbearing presence of his father, but it was a place he could call home. He then went with the rest of the congregation to the other homes damaged by the storm and after about a month everything was put back together.

Sitting on the back porch after the first harvest without his father, Theo looked around him and thanked God again for the blessings bestowed upon him. The sticky southern air hung thick around him. The wisteria that draped the short fence in front of the porch swirled fragrantly when the wind blew, which was mercilessly infrequent. He played one of his favorite hymns, Great is Thy Faithfulness, and hummed along to the tune.

"You have such a wonderful voice, Theo." The new rocking chair squeaked as Aunt Becca moved gently to the rhythm of the music. "Your father loved that song, and when he played it, you would think you were sitting in the Garden of Eden. His fingers would float from string to string and it was just beautiful."

She put her darning work into her knitting basket and leaned back in the chair with her eyes closed. "I wish he were here, Theo. He could have shown you how to play like him."

The rocking stopped and Theo looked over to his aunt, the woman who raised him when he was left without a mother, and thought about how lucky he was to have her. "I know, Aunt Becca. I wish he were here too." He tried not to think about how much it hurt to be compared to someone and be found wanting.

.o0o.

The room was small and hot for a January night. The owner let Theo come in once a week to play for the patrons of the little gin joint. Prohibition had been going strong for a few years, and while Theo didn't partake in the drinks offered at the small house in the woods, he loved playing for everyone on Thursday nights.

"

.o0o.

"You will need to leave something with me; collateral until I can collect what you've promised me this night. Something that is just as precious." Theo had followed the direction from Miss Millie and went to the crossroads at midnight during the new moon. He met Voldemort who had offered him what he wanted, and had dreamed of most nights since the tornado. A way out of the town. He would give up anything to play like his father, but instead of throwing that talent away and starting a family, Theo would take his music on the road

Theo looked down at the beat up guitar at his feet. It was the last he had of his father, his legacy was tied to the cursed six-string. As he bent down to grab it, the cross he received at his baptism slipped out from under the collar of his shirt. The tarnished chain had been repaired more than a few times, and the edges had been worn rounded from the times he held it and prayed for better days, rain for his crops and his father to return home. None of those had ever come. He was done keeping faith in someone that wasn't here for him, like the creature before him.

The chain broke as he pulled it from his neck. Voldemort hissed when the gold touched his outstretched hand. Long claw like fingers wrapped into a fist and Theo had to choke back a gasp when saw the embers of the creature's eyes glow a brilliant red.

If anyone has been close enough to hear, and it had been a full moon, instead of a new moon, they would have sworn they heard a werewolf. The howl that erupted from Theo was for the pain that was coursing through his left arm. Where it was just smooth brown skin, he saw a mark. A skull with its mouth open, though Theo wasn't sure if it was going to spew forth a demon, or swallow him whole.

.o0o.

"Theo, what was that?" Aunt Becca asked after seeing the burn on the inside of his arm.


End file.
